The Strong Do No Always End Up On Top
by GodsFool
Summary: Passing as a Beta, Felicity Smoak desired normalcy with a little thrill - IT girl by day, hacker by night. Was that too much to ask? Turns out Bratva Captain & CEO of QC Oliver Queen is her Alpha Matched Mate! Between Mob Wars, Stalkers, & Outside Forces, can Omega Felicity Smoak and Jealous Alpha Oliver Queen get over their issues & accept their soul-deep connection? I 3 prompts!
1. Evil Afoot

Felicity Smoak, boring IT worker by day, hacktavist by night, was brushing her teeth in preparation for bed when the Triad came for her.

She had just swallowed down her evening suppressants and was in the process of rinsing her mouth from giving her teeth a good scrubbing (she had garlic chicken alfredo for dinner; delicious, but garlicky morning breath is the worst) when the front door of the dingy little apartment she shared with Cooper and Byron smashed in with a violent crash.

The soft *pff* *pff* *pff* of silenced gunshots went off, followed by a choked wet gasp from Byron's location on the crappy futon blocking full view of the bathroom's half closed door. She could see crimson beginning to stain the back of the futon where he had been lounging playing video games through the crack by the door's hinges. His little video game figure walked off a cliff as her breath died in her lungs.

The primal instinct of Fight, Flight, or Freeze flooded her system, and chose freeze for about the count of five. The tinking theme music of the video game character's death in the background just added too many levels of surreal to the situation for her brain to completely grasp the severity of present events. Abruptly, the realization that yes, this really was happening, and yes, there really were four Asian men with guns raiding her home and yelling at each other in Chinese kicked in, and Flight took over from Freeze.

Her genius brain went through a checklist of options faster than the blink of an eye. Cell phone? In the living room with the men. Actual clothes? No time. Running away barefoot in a cami-tank and tiny sleep shorts was more important than fully clothing herself right now. Escape options? Bedroom window was closest, open to the night air and rusty fire escape, and (bonus) her tablet was resting on the night stand she'd have to jump over to get the hell out.

Brain processing these thoughts so quickly that the angry men had barely gotten five feet into the grungy living room, Felicity kept low and fucking ran for it.

It took a full level down the rickety fire escape before the panic fully controlled her and her perception went strange. She didn't remember getting down the next five floors, but she must have since she could now feel the cold filth of concrete beneath her feet as she dropped to the alley behind her hole of an apartment in the Glades.

Faint yelling in Chinese followed by a *pfft* registered a moment before a bullet pinged off the pavement near her feet and a burning pain seared across the side of her calf. With a yelp, the pain kicked her panic into high gear once again and she took off down the alley, panting in a combination of fear and exertion.

Too late she noticed the heeled boot snap out of the shadows of the alley and hook her ankle.

Hands flying out to try to break her fall, Felicity could only whimper as her tablet escaped the desperate clutch of her hand and soared through the air, smashing into a thousand pieces as it hit the opposite alley wall. Everything seemed to slow down once she saw her baby shatter, and little insignificant details popped out at her as her mind tried to process what was going on.

The white-haired woman who tripped her had nice boots. They looked shiny and black and expensive. Prada? Did she always wear expensive shoes when killing someone? It would suck to get blood stains on those. Though white-haired lady deserved it for tripping her at full speed. She was going to kiss the pavement shortly because of it. It was going to hurt. There was probably going to be blood. She hoped she got it on white-hair's shoes.

Time sped up again as Felicity was proven right; it really did hurt.

Cheekbones were not meant to connect with pavement with force, and a blinding white sheet of pain blanketed her vision as she felt her body tumble ass over tea kettle several times before being stopped up short by the cold metal of a dumpster.

By the time she recognized that the whimpers of pain she heard were her own, she could also hear both male and female voices conversing above her. Opening her eyes, or eye rather, as the other seemed to be almost swollen shut, her entire field of vision was blurry. Dammit. Her glasses were gone. Or she had a concussion. Or both. Either would suck. Both would really suck.

Forcing her body to shift, to move at all, took an immense force of will, but she managed to bring her hand up to her face to feel for her glasses as she lay shivering on the ground. Gingerly running the pads of her fingers over her face, she winced. Swelling? Check. Blood? Check. Pain upon touching? Double check. Glasses? No check. Frack.

Struggling to pull her other arm underneath her in a feeble attempt to push up her body, to stand or sit or roll over (she didn't know), the petite woman realized that hand was still clenched in a fist. Around her toothbrush of all things.

Masculine voices and heavy footsteps grew louder and she was roughly grabbed by the shoulders and pulled upright. Shrieking, the petite hacker stabbed the toothbrush at her captor in flailing terror, grunting in surprise as the toothbrush was ripped out of her grip with a deep growling scream and she was again thrown through the air, landing in a heap.

The little blonde Omega didn't even try to get up this time, let alone move. She wanted to- Smoak women were strong, but she was pretty sure her body was giving her the middle finger right now.

Humorless feminine laughter echoed in her ears as the exhaustion, fear, pain, shock, and mild blood loss all caught up with her at once. White hair around a coldly beautiful Asian woman's face coming into focus as her body was rolled over with the toe of those fancy black boots was the last thing she saw before she passed out.

Felicity hoped she got blood all over them. Bitch.

Then there was nothing but blissful darkness.


	2. Getting Cheeky

A/N: Torture and threats of violence/sexual assault in this chapter.

When Felicity managed to open her eyes- wait, no. Eye. The right was completely swollen shut now. When Felicity managed to open her eye, she felt a faint swell of hope, as Cooper's face was close, in clear view of her blurry vision.

"Coop?" She managed to whisper out, croaking, her throat dry and raspy. Water. She needed water.

Blinking grit out of her eyes, she saw him staring back at her, his expression blank.

Swallowing and coughing, her throat trying to clear, she tried again. "Coop…? What…?"

He didn't move, still staring at her emotionlessly. Empty. His eyes were completely empty. He didn't move. He didn't even blink, eyes devoid of everything, no spark, dead. Oh god, dead. Cooper, her love, her boyfriend, was dead.

And she was lying next to his corpse.

Felicity tried to scream, but what came out was closer to a choked gasping croak that ended in a quiet raspy wail. Followed by coughing. Lots of coughing - wracking her body as she tried to back up, to jerk away. Which then brought with it waves of pain, and Felicity realized that she hurt. She had hurt her everything.

Tears ran freely down her cheeks in both pain and grief. She wasn't sure which hurt more, the physical pain or the pain of the heavy black void sitting on her chest where her heart used to be. Slowly, she managed to crawl blindly in the dim lighting of the featureless room to a wall. Using it to prop herself up with a pained groan, the blonde tried to take stock of her injuries and ignore the fact that her dead boyfriend was laying less than ten feet from her with a hole above his right ear.

If she let herself think about it, she would lose it, and she couldn't afford to lose it right now. Smoak women were survivors. They were strong. Felicity couldn't let herself fall to pieces right now, she needed to focus. And focusing on the bodily pain made it easier.

Methodically, she cataloged the current state of her petite body. Feet? Cut up on the soles from gravel and glass and really filthy from the alley floor. Ankles? Sore, probably bruised, she thought as she flexed them one at a time, but functional. Her legs, on the other hand, were not in the greatest shape. Four inch bullet graze on the outside of her right calf, still slowly oozing blood and also covered in filth, and what felt like a nasty bruise on her right hip where she had been brought up short by the dumpster. Left leg in slightly better shape, though both her knees and spots on her legs looked like they had road rash.

Stomach? No major pain, and the same with her ribs, thank god. She was sure they were bruised, but breathing didn't hurt. Back? Sore and bruised, and likely cut up a bit from the pavement when she took her tumble by the feel of it. It hurt more when she moved, so staying still was okay by her for now. Arms? Sore, bruised, and her forearms and elbows also had scrapes from where she had skidded along the concrete. Trying to flex her wrists was a mistake. While the right one seemed sore but okay, the left was swollen and throbbing. Sprain maybe? Don't those hurt more than actual breaks?

Felicity let out a deep sigh and focused on her face. Right eye swollen shut, right cheekbone feels like hell scraped raw, and some minor cuts, but blessedly few bruises. She must've been able to cradle her head in her arms better than she thought she had, as it didn't feel like she had major trauma or concussions to her cranium. Just the damn cheek making her whole face throb.

Not to mention the dirt and grit ground into almost every injury. Surprisingly, her sleep shorts and cami, while so dirty she would never bother trying to wash them again, had survived without rips or tears.

Staring blankly at the white tiled wall, the Omega let her mind wander, trying to figure out how she even came to be in this predicament in the first place. Not having her glasses or being able to see actually made it easier to ignore her surroundings, as the world farther than a foot in front of her nose was just a big blur. Cooper's corpse was just a dark blur.

No. Don't think about that. Focus. How did this happen? Staying away from the Tr iad, the Bratva, and the Italian mob was pretty much a no-brainer, even though Cooper had suggested they go after them a few times in their little evening hacking escapades.

Felicity had always refused. She wanted justice for victims, of course, but she wasn't suicidal. Yet somehow, they had popped up on the Triad's (as she was pretty sure that's who had taken her) radar.

Concepts of time didn't seem to matter, as she didn't know how long she stared at the wall trying to puzzle out what had happened; what mistake she had made in their security, what mistake led to her failure to protect them, what mistake had let Cooper and Byron die.

Was she a coward? She had run when they came in, she hadn't even thought to try to help her former roommate. Guilt slammed into her at the thought. Trying to convince herself there was nothing she could do, he was shot, blood was staining the futon, there was no way he was alive…. It did nothing to alleviate that horrible feeling of self-blame.

Slamming open suddenly, the door's crash and the entry of two heavily tattoo'd men interrupted her spiraling thoughts and she jumped, flinching back and pressing into the wall. One of them chuckled as they each grabbed an arm and hauled her to her feet, causing her to cry out in pain. Their faces were blurry and one of them was gripping her so tight she knew there would be finger shaped bruises in her arm. Attempting to support herself on her own two feet proved next to impossible. Waves of dizziness swept over the blonde and the pair of men were dragging her too fast for her to do anything but stumble as she tried to get her feet under her.

It was almost a relief when they pulled her through another door and dropped her unceremoniously into a wooden chair.

"Felicity Smoak." It was a statement, not a question, a statement filled with intention and irritation. And it was spoken by the white haired woman now standing in front of her. Even with her senses slightly dulled from the Suppressants, the Omega could feel the Alpha scent just rolling off from the Asian woman. "You've got a little fight in you, don't you."

Head lolling slightly as the waves of dizziness abated, the girl in question blinked several times, trying to focus. She yelped when the woman grabbed her chin tightly and forced Felicity's face up to her own and growled down at her, "You will look at me when I talk to you."

Glazed eyes trying to focus, the younger woman tried to think of something clever or defiant to say. She was a genius, surely she could come up with a snappy retort summing up her anger at this women! What came out was "Where's my toothbrush?"

The woman let out an amused snort and a loud rage filled growl came from one of the men who dragged her in here, now standing by the door, as he lunged towards her. A single look from the female Alpha stopped him cold.

She released Felicity's chin and tilted her head, observing the blonde momentarily before responding in her lightly accented English. "Your toothbrush ended up in Feng's eye. As you can see, he's rather upset with you."

The hacker blinked again. "Actually, you smashed my glasses. I can't see. Probably like Feng can't see. It would be more accurate to say that I can hear he's upset with me. Though you probably meant that metaphorically, in which case I totally understand that he's upset with me. You don't need to be told what you meant though, I'm sure you knew what you meant. That's why you said it. And why am I correcting you? I'm just gonna stop talk- wait, his EYE? My toothbrush stabbed his eye? Oh ick. That's just… ick."

There was silence for a moment before the white-haired woman spoke again, seemingly ignoring her babble. "I am Chien Na Wei, also called China White. You will call me Ms. White or Sir when you address me."

She paused expectantly.

Blue eyes widened slightly as the petite woman's brain realized she was talking to one of the most powerful leaders of the Triad. Frack frack frack frack frack.

When Felicity just stared at her silently, eyes wide, Chien Na Wei brought her hand up and tapped against the ugly bruising on the Omega's cheekbone. "I said, you will call me Ms. White or Sir when you address me." Her voice was lower this time, with a hint of a threat in it.

Hissing in pain as she jerked her face away, the blonde rasped out "Yes. Ms. White. Sir. Yes Sir."

Close enough so that Felicity could see her predatory expression, China White smiled. "Now, I have questions for you, and you will answer them for me, quickly and completely. I do not like having to repeat myself." She paused again, waiting for an affirmation.

Instead, the petite woman's eyes narrowed and she frowned. This was stupid. Stupid stupid stupid. China White could go to hell. She was scared, sure, but she'd be damned before she helped the people who killed her only friends. She was going to die anyway, the Triad was utterly ruthless. Why not go out with a defiant sneer on her face? "You murdered Cooper. You murdered Byron! Why on earth would I answer you? When you're done you'd just kill me, too."

Instead of replying in anger or violence, China White just smiled a sweet, predatory smile. That look chilled Felicity more than a slap to the face would have. Eyes narrowing, the assassin practically purred out her response. "There's that little fire. Now, we're not an unreasonable organization. When one provides assets that outweigh one's liabilities, their life can be prolonged for quite a while."

Smiles turned to a snarl quite rapidly. "When liabilities outweigh assets, however… Well, their life can be prolonged as well, but is far far less pleasant." Expression morphing to one of consideration, she tilted her head at the blonde. "The boy said you were intelligent. Went to MIT. Were the best of the best. He said you were even the one that wrote the super-virus that broke into our networks. He said you were brilliant. So make the smart decision. Answer my questions."

Felicity felt like she'd been sucker punched, like all the air had been sucked out of her lungs. "Cooper… told you about… the virus?"

"Indeed. He happily told us all about how he used it to hack into our accounts and drain them all to zero. Our specialists caught his trail though. Something about routes and configuration. It was all very technical and I didn't care. The boy was quite helpful in returning all our funds to us. Had he been able to do more, he would still be alive. He insisted that you could."

Felicity's thoughts whirled in her head. Cooper had gone after the Triad. He had used her algorithm and cracked the Triad's systems. He had done what she asked him not to again and again. And he had been careless about it. They tracked him down. Cooper had essentially killed them all, and had used her creation to do it.

The bitter sting of betrayal tied her stomach into knots as she closed her eyes and dropped her head down, taking in stuttering breaths. Her boyfriend had told the Triad all about her, had even encouraged them to come after her? Her heart was shattering all over again because of Cooper. First from his death, and now from his betrayal.

Tearstains marked her cheeks as she raised her head and tried to look Chien Na Wei's blurry form in the eye. Felicity's eyes narrowed as she asked quietly, suspiciously, cautiously, "What do you want?"


End file.
